Into the Dragon Age Verse
by RoboticHawk
Summary: An AU within an AU within an AU. Warden Commander Solona Amell and Inquisitor Halla Lavellan (by AliceAro) falls through a Rift into a world, where they meet a different Warden Commander Solona Amell and an incompetent Inquisitor Jocelyn Trevelyan (by RoboticHawk). Two Heroes of Ferelden and two Inquisitors in one world. Will there be room enough in Thedas for them all?
1. Down the Rift Hole

"Get the fuck off me, Lavellan!" Solona Amell shouted at the willy elf sitting loftily atop her.

"Oh no, how _ever_ did you end up under me?"

"Get, the fuck, off me!"

The nimble elf lithely stepped off one trussed up Solona Amell she was crouched upon, though not as quickly as she could. Amell swore harshly enough for Halla to flinch as she pulled herself off the ground.

"Why'd you even follow me?" Amell glared at her, dusting off as she tried to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Oh, you thought I would let you prance into a Fade Rift on your own?"

"And you thought it'd be a good idea to follow me? Do you know how dangerously stupid that was? You could have gotten hurt! You should have left me and it well alone!"

"And leave you to your own devices?"

"Well, considering nothing happened–" Amell swiped her hand around them, stressing her point.

"You didn't know that for certain! The last time we fell through a Fade Rift-"

"We were just fine! _I_ would have been fine! I killed the Nightmare Demon, _remember?_ I was just going to hop into this one, like the last time we did, look around, and hop right back out! It's high time someone started to figure out how this all works, instead of just wiggling your fingers at it and making it disappear."

"I do not just wiggle my fingers! And Solas has been trying to figure out how it works. He just needs time and you need to be patient-"

"I am better than your elven hobo boy toy. I can figure this out. There's no need for the likes of you to get involved!"

"We have a duty to our people. You to your Wardens, and I to my Inquisition. Both of us, to Thedas. To protect, to serve. You risk not only yourself in times dire such as this, but all! When will you understand? Your life is not your own. You have- Amell? Are you listening to me?"

"Oh, were you saying something? I must not have heard over your incessant self-righteousness." Amell spat.

ARRRG! That insane Halla! To have followed her, into a Rift of all things! Of course, she could have figured out this silly Rift matter with ease but still, that elf had better treat herself with more concern! How careless of her to jump after her into a Rift. Halla wasn't anything like herself. Amell was expendable. No one has needed the Hero of Ferelden for well over a decade. But Thedas direly needed her. _She_ needed her. Halla was their only salvation, the only way for Amell to keep those she loved safe. But Halla acted like her life was worth no more than anyone else's. As if she was someone the world could afford to lose. Damn that noble-hearted elf!

She bit off an angry command to Inquisition's soldiers as she realized, Halla's companions were nowhere to be seen. Strange, this did not seem to be the Fade and they were exactly where they'd been standing a moment ago.

 _Something's wrong._

Amell moved to search their premise, though she kept Halla well within her casting distance. She needed to keep the Inquisitor close and safe.

"Solona Amell you come back here and listen to me!"

And Amell surely as hell did not need Halla's self-righteous bullshit.

"Go torture your own men if you want. I'm not listening to you." She scoffed, pretending to leave Halla behind despite having all her senses sweeping the area for any potential threat to the Inquisitor. Just then she sighted the Inquisition colors flying against the horizon down the road. They must have marched around to look for them when the two disappeared into the Rift.

"…we didn't have your men with us, did we?" Halla asked.

"My Wardens? No, they're…" Amell trailed off as she adjusted the magic in her weak eyes and finally caught the colors of Wardens flying amongst Inquisition's.

"After the last incident with Orlesian Wardens, that worries me." Halla said.

"Same here." Amell growled, readying her staff. But it wasn't long before Halla cried, "Commander?"

"What? Me?"

"It's the Commander. But why would he be riding here? He should be at Skyhold…"

"You're sure?" Amell squinted, but the little dots of people all blurred together.

"Yes. Come, let us watch him. See who he rides with."

* * *

Halla had settled in comfortably in bushes but cringed at the profanity Amell spouted as she followed her.

"Will you be quiet? They'll hear you." Halla chided.

"Will you shut up? My ass doesn't give a damn." Amell whispered back, rubbing her eyes.

Rolling her eyes, Halla focused on the procession coming nearer. They were close enough that even Amell with her exceptionally weak sight should be able to distinguish them.

"…and the look on her face! It was priceless!" The Commander chuckled.

"Never realized you were so vindictive, Commander." Laughed the woman riding by him, wearing the armor of _Commander of the Grey,_ same as Amell _._

"When it comes to chess…" Commander shrugged with a laugh.

"We must play together. It'll be interesting."

"Against you, Commander Amell, I fear I shall suffer a shameful defeat."

Amell made a strangled noise beside her. Halla grabbed her shoulder to still her.

"When we play, I shall raise the stakes. I must be certain you do not allow me an easy victory."

"You wish to bet money?" Commander asked.

"Come now, Commander! You know me better than that, surely? I won't do anything so mundane. Will you indulge me in wagering something you have before? I heard the tale of your match against Josephine on cards." The woman laughed as the Commander flushed crimson.

"Maker's breath! Who- no, when- I mean…"

"I know _all_ about it." The woman giggled.

"How dare they!" Came a voice and Halla whirled, blood freezing at the unadulterated hatred in Amell's voice, too late. Amell had already burst from the bush.

"Die!" Amell screamed as she sliced her palm with a dagger and blood swirled from her wound.

"No!" Halla shouted, making to grab for her.

Amell's blood roared as it assumed the form of an Archdemon. It was no bigger than a dragonling in size, but Amell could use the blood of others to power the spell and darken the sky with a _much_ larger creature. Halla had seen her do it before.

"Blood magic!" The woman cried a warning just as the Commander shouted, "fall back!" before both she and Commander went limp in their saddles. The Inquisition and Wardens fell back in a scramble, no doubt preparing for a counter.

But Amell was already casting, her blood coppery in the air. "Demons!" She muttered, eyes crimson with hatred.

"Stop, Commander Amell!" Halla snatched her wrist and faced her, trying to break her concentration. Amell, lost to her rage, threw her off.

"Demons! How dare they! Me and him, of all people? _Him?_ I will slaughter them!" Amell snarled as the two caught in her spell twitched and slipped off their mounts.

"Stand down, _now."_ Halla commanded, in that one voice, the voice of the Mark-wielder. The voice she hated to use but had always cowed Amell to obey her.

It did not work this time.

"I will kill all of you!" The Archdemon took to air with blood mist whirling around it and Halla could taste the rot in the air. Amell's golden eyes turned blood red as she looked at the woman that was and wasn't Solona Amell and the Commander.

Amell thrust her hand, just as Halla might at a Rift, and the blood beast shored.

"No!" Halla's body blurred. One minute she was beside Amell, the next she stood protecting Amell's would-be victims. She threw her hands to shield them.

Amell screamed as the Archdemon's jaw closed around Halla's head and she yanked at her magic, the beast exploding as blood splattered everywhere.

"They're not demons! This isn't the Fade!" Halla trembled as her tears mixed with the blood on her face.

"I Fade Walked. You can't Fade Walk in the Fade."

Amell hesitated, uncertainty flitting across her eyes that were slowly turning back to gold. Halla, being braver than she felt, Fade Walked again to Amell's side and took her palm to heal the bleed.

"Please don't hurt anyone," Halla pleaded.

But before she could even recall the healing glyph, Amell screamed.

"Halla!"

She turned, facing the livid woman with her hands alight with flames. It was the simplest, quickest spell of Fireball, Halla was certain, but the woman looked as if she was shrouded in a massive Inferno.

"Please, stop!" Halla screamed.

The Commander was on his knee, eyes screwed shut as he focused on nullifying Amell's hostile blood magic. The woman drew her hand back to throw that massive Fireball, and Amell scrambled to cover Halla.

"We mean you no harm!" Halla desperately called, raising her hands just as Amell threw up a weakened blood barrier around her, resisting Commander's Templar abilities.

"Strange thing to say after striking first, no? Perhaps you just simply realized how poorly your assassination attempt was planned." A voice sounded bored just behind her back.

Halla turned slowly, hands still up in the air, following Amell's strangled noise to find Zevran – _Zevran_ , of all people! – holding a dagger against her throat. Amell's spell sputtered, barrier shattering away, blood dripping uselessly into the grass as she also held her hands up, deathly afraid to harm her husband.

"You could have caught her earlier, Zev. Did you really have to take so long?" The woman grumbled, though she allowed the spell to quiet in her fist.

"I thought, ah Zevran, why step in when mi amor has things so well under control?" He shrugged, tilting the tip of his other dagger down to indicate Amell to her knees. She did, a breath of wounded _Zevran?_ escaping her.

"But then you did step in," the woman complained, stalking closer.

"Then I thought, perhaps my dear Warden would like to look at something before she burns these two Magelings into cinders."

"Commander Amell," The Commander said as he came to stand by the woman. He pointed with his chin at Halla's raised hands and the woman's eyes followed to fix on Halla's Anchor glowing there.

The two stared wordlessly.

"Yes, well, now you've looked. Do you want me to kill her now?" Zevran shrugged.

"Commander Cullen," Halla tried, as he was obviously still the Commander.

"Someone you know, Commander?" The woman asked. He merely shook his head.

"Don't you recognize your own Inquisitor?" Amell spat at the Commander, though she didn't move an inch from where she was kneeling with Zevran's other dagger pointed towards her.

"Inquisitor?" The Commander echoed blankly.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan is not Dalish, and she is sitting safely at Skyhold. Not gallivanting about with a _blood Mage_." The woman sneered.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan? But I'm… I'm the Inquisitor. Inquisitor Lavellan! Halla Lavellan! Commander, don't you remember me?" Halla took a step closer, but Zevran's dagger bit into her neck.

"…the only Inquisitor we ever had was Inquisitor Jocelyn Trevelyan." The Commander replied stiffly.

"But I'm right here!" Halla shook her Marked hand, Anchor blazing out in response. The two… Commanders of this world stared before they looked at each other.

"Well, this is going to be… _interesting."_ The woman sighed.


	2. A Wrong Kind of Rift

Amell called to the Fade and froze both of Zevran's daggers, striking out to shatter the weakened blades.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to her husband miserably. The daggers were beautiful and well-polished, and she knew he must have loved them. But now was not the time for it, and while the Antivan elf shrugged carelessly Amell launched herself at Halla.

"Time to run!" Amell cried as force magic thrummed through her body, carrying the Inquisitor swiftly across the clearing.

"What? Why?" Halla twisted in her grasp but Amell held on.

"I'll explain later."

"Explain it now!"

Halla's own magic reared against Amell's, pushing off against the Warden. The Dalish elf spun and planted her feet firmly on the ground. When Amell increased her force magic, Halla also strengthened hers.

"Inquisitor!" Amell snarled. It was ridiculous, and they'd put nowhere _near_ enough distance between them and the… whatever the fuck the others were.

"Commander!" Halla snarled right back.

Amell flicked her eyes toward the approaching army, blades drawn and shields up. She dipped into her reserves and she cast a massive barrier to slow their advances, though with the number of Templars she saw…

"Amell, stop using magic against our friends!" Halla demanded but Amell didn't answer, her concentration focused on completing the barrier. In her peripherals, she saw the… woman, the _other_ Warden Commander shift her weight and cross her arms with a detached expression. Almost as if she was… bored? Or, observing? Her arrogant behavior fucking pissed her off to no end, but then again, she was the one with the army and Amell the one with a very stubborn elf resisting her.

"AMELL!"

"I am not the only blood Mage in the world!" Amell gave in and snapped. Commander's Templar abilities had siphoned much out of her mana, and if Halla didn't cooperate, they were never going to get away.

"This… Jocelyn Trevelyan person must have taken their minds. Erased you from their memories. This could be Corypheus' work!"

"You're accusing her of blood magic?" Cullen fucking Rutherford frowned, taking a step forward with obvious intent to Smite. But the woman, fuck, the other one, stopped him with her hand. And fucking dared to lift an eyebrow with an amused smile.

"Considering Inquisitor Trevelyan's character, Commander, it's not a far-fetched theory. The only problem with that is how… _inept_ Inquisitor happens to be at magic. Though these two wouldn't know that." She shrugged.

"There's no way the entire Inquisition would fall to him." Halla insisted, her magic still surging.

"Lavellan-" Amell started.

"Enough! You don't know this for sure. We need to talk to them-"

"I WILL NOT RISK YOU!"

"That is not your choice!"

That's when the Smiting hit.

Amell and Halla lurched at the same time, as three dozen Templars Smote the two with their combined attack. Halla staggered and fell while Amell grit her teeth and brought her dagger up to cut her palm once more.

But Zevran was there again, snatching her wrist with a painful twist. Amell dropped her dagger and stared at her husband, meeting his eyes. Those dark eyes looked to her with promise of pain, not a trace of fondness remaining there. Amell blinked, crushing the misery threatening to spill over.

Halla attempted to tug at the other elf's hands, but there was a fucking _army_ of Templars advancing through the shredded barrier, and neither of their magic refused to answer.

"That was impressive," came a dry voice. Amell looked over her shoulder to watch the other woman tap her foot and frown, watching the barrier Amell cast still standing in areas where Templars hadn't nullified.

"Fuck you," Amell swore, and winced when Zevran put more pressure on her wrist. He had never let anyone off for swearing at Amell before either. It seemed that trait has remained the same.

The other one tread slowly towards the two where they'd fallen down, with Rutherford in tow. Her expression was unreadable, as she squatted down to make eye contact with Amell.

"Impressive. For a blood Mage, that is." she sneered.

"Fuck off, if it wasn't for a fucking _army_ of Templars backing you…" Amell spat.

Then she pulled short as the woman lifted what was held in her hand.

It was the Litany of Adralla.

The very same she'd grabbed off the body of Niall a decade ago in the Circle Tower.

"So… _Amell_ ," the woman paused, considering the name before continuing "here is my proof that we… well, at least _I_ am not under the influence of blood magic. Where's your proof that you two aren't demons? Or that you're not under some blood magic?"

Amell simply stared at the Litany. There was that little tear where Niall's grip had been a little too tight. And a little smudge of blood smeared over the _y,_ when she'd palmed it after killing a possessed Templar. It was supposed to be at the Circle of Ferelden. Though now that it fell…

"Fuck," Amell swore.

"Answering seems a good idea, no?" came Zevran's voice, and Amell was once again very aware of the hand gripping her wrist over her back. Something was so very wrong here, and she wasn't sure of anything anymore.

The woman stared a little longer before deciding, apparently, that it was going to lead nowhere. And turned instead to Halla.

"Are you willing to talk?" She asked, to which Halla nodded carefully. Halla kept her hands on the ground in front of her, Amell noted. Fuck Halla and her fucking trusting nature. But there were even more Templars now and… well, shit.

The woman gestured a cutting motion with her hand, and with a nod from Rutherford Amell could feel the pressure easing off on Halla. That was at least something. The woman started a Fireball glowing on her right fist to make a point, Amell thought, but considering Halla it was unnecessary.

"Halla Lavellan, the Inquisitor. Or, at least I was, until we walked through a Rift."

The woman raised her eyebrows again and shared a look with Rutherford before nodding for her to continue.

"Commander Amell-" Halla glanced at Amell here, before turning back to the squatting woman "wanted to investigate the workings of a Rift and I… followed. Nothing happened, or that's what we thought. Then we saw the Inquisition colors flying and we saw you, and…" Halla shrugged, gesturing at Rutherford and the woman.

"You… just walked through a Rift. Did you… have plans?" The woman suggested.

"Uhm… no, not really."

Rutherford and the woman stared blankly, before she shook her head.

"And… you know the Commander because…?"

"Because, he's the Commander of the Inquisition, and I'm the Inquisitor."

"Who else do you know? From Inquisition?" Rutherford asked.

"Uhm… Leliana, the… sene.. sena.. spymaster, Josephine the Ambassador, Varric, Dorian, Cassandra…"

"That's enough, thank you." The woman shook her head again and Halla stopped.

The two once again shared a look, where _something_ obviously passed between them and fuck if Amell didn't hate the implications of that.

"You said you're an Amell?" The woman looked at her and Amell bared her teeth.

"Are you… well, no. This is not urgent. Lavellan, Amell. That Rift you walked through, is it that one?" She pointed with her chin, where a telling glow of green flickered from the direction Amell and Halla had come from. They were so close to it, that they could see the demons prowling around it. Amell hadn't realized they'd run back in this direction. Halla nodded.

"Fine. Prove to us that you're an Inquisitor. Use that Mark, and we will treat you as… _guests_." She mused over the last word, gesturing with her hand once more and standing.

Amell gasped involuntarily as the damned magic siphoning stopped when Templars ceased their abilities. Halla helped Amell up to her feet, Zevran surrendering his hold on her wrist with a carefully blank face. Amell opened her mouth to swear, just as the scream started.

Their heads snapped up in response to the sudden terrified scream, and like lightning, Halla disappeared from Amell's side.

Fear, absolute and unending, shot through Amell. She collapsed the barrier and cast a new spell. As a shockwave of energy gathered at the base of her staff, Amell impaled the ground and split open the Earth. A rift cleaved through the army and broke it apart on either side of her. She leapt into the chasm and called to the Fade again. The ground trembled, broke apart, and reformed under her feet. Amell created a clear pathway as she ran to Halla. Enemy-allies groaned and stumbled on either side of her. The warriors were too far away and if there were any archers, they seemed blessedly too stunned to complain with lethal force as she reshaped the earth.

But those worries were of no real consequence to her. Because Halla was in danger. The elf downed two fear demons despite the lingering Templar affects just as Amell got into a fighting distance, but a third dug its claws in the elf's gut.

Amell let out a guttural scream as the elf jerked away and crashed to the ground.

Her body was ablaze as she tackled the demon and placed her hand around its throat. She did not care that her fires burned her palms as she melted the demon's head. Distantly, she was aware that at least her wound was cauterized.

Blistered hands closed around her bladed staff as she aimed an ice spell at multiple Rage demons. Amell wended a rock armor around her but she did not wait for it to completely settle on her skin before she hurled herself at the frozen demons. The creatures shattered into pieces but not without leaving bruises on her body.

She moved on to the next demon.

Her Stoic spell was filling her to the brim with mana as the damage she received grew. Two enormous pride demons emerged from the Rift with a sickening pop. Amell called to the ancient magic of the once trapped elven spirit and raised her hand high above her head. She brought it down in a raging arc right down the center as the arcane warrior blade formed around her arm and cut the demon into two matching halves.

Before she could recover her balance, the remaining pride demon had Amell in his clutches. The demon squeezed. Her bones fractured and nearly sundered, but Amell turned the damage into her magic. From her pain she brought forth a torrent of hailstorm that ravaged the demon, tearing and slicing through its thick hide. And as ice melted to rain, Amell's body turned molten and flashed as a shockwave of flaming electricity exploded out of her. The drenched demon convulsed as the energy current burned through, dissolving its flesh and melting its bones.

Amell landed on the ground heavily, her knees nearly buckling. The constant heat of her magic had turned the water on her own skin into steam, saving her from an electrocution, but she wasn't unscathed. Still she ignored the ache of her body and unleashed herself onto the remaining demons.

When Amell downed the final demon, Halla thrusted her hand to close the Rift. Her free hand pressed to her stomach, still trying to heal her wound. It was shallow and Amell allowed herself a small breath of relief.

But then Halla screamed. An ear-splitting wail of pain and agony that filled Amell with ice-cold dread.

That's when Amell knew this Rift was different. That everything was different, and that she was wrong, so very wrong, and that this was all just _wrong_.

Amell rushed to Halla's side and Halla crumbled into her arms. Amell could barely hold her upright. Still she held out her hand, urging the Mark to heal the Rift.

"Halla, stop!"

"No, I have-"

"You can't. It'll kill you!"

Amell felt Halla's magic surge as she powered her Anchor. She stopped healing her wound. A violent tremor started to wrack through the elf's small body as blood dripped from Halla's nose. Still she did not break the connection.

Amell held the dying elf closely as she nearly sobbed.

"Please…"

It's been so long since she's begged. But she would plead and bargain for the elf's life.

Even if the asking price was her own life.

 _Tell my family I love them._ She spoke to Halla's mind as she weaved a spell to transfer her life force.

But before she could gather enough of her magic, Halla closed and yanked her fist back. The Rift sealed in an explosion of green light.

Halla went limp and Amell collapsed to her knees. The frail elf curled weakly unto Amell's lap. Amell gathered her protectively in her arms.

Halla coughed up blood and Amell grieved at her lack of healing prowess. Still she did what she could and placed a glowing hand on Halla's stomach.

Halla smiled up at her with bloody teeth.

"I did it?" And Amell sobbed, in relief or despair, she did not know.

"Yes," she said gently. "You did well."

Halla passed out in her arms.


	3. Morrigan

Solona counted the wounded from the battle, taking note of the healers flitting from one to the next. A headache was already starting to throb in her temple. What a mess she found herself in, though she should be used to it by now. Zev stood beside her with a bow he'd grabbed from his saddle slung across his chest. With his daggers shattered, he'd also slipped her longsword and a dagger into his own belt somehow without her noticing. Not till she looked to him and saw the hilts of her blades gleaming at his waist.

Her Wardens and Inquisition soldiers were carrying a few scavenging villagers – hunters, she assumed – away from the flickering remains of demons for treatment, while Cullen issued orders for vigilance to the once-Templars against the two _very_ powerful Mages.

"Thoughts, Warden Commander?" Cullen came up to her with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, as they both watched the one called Amell scream at the Inquisition for help.

"We should… heal them, at least. That Lavellan did after all, close a Rift." Solona flicked her eyes to where the green Rift had been moments before, then back to the two Mages.

"Right." Cullen sighed and Solona knew him well enough to notice a groan he hadn't let out.

"Are you thinking of the paperwork this will breed, Commander?" she gently jibed, motioning for her Warden Mages to help the Dalish elf.

"That, and more." he grimaced, hand finding a spot on his neck to rub against. The way he winced, Solona knew he was sore. She placed her hand over his own, her magic a gentle breeze ruffling his hair. She coaxed his rigid muscles to relax, lulling them away from tension with a playful nudge of her fingers. Cullen started, but only smiled his gratitude.

"Do you believe them, mi amor? That she's an Inquisitor, and that Maleficar is you?" asked Zev, and Solona sighed.

"I don't know, Zev. But I _do_ know they did close the Rift, and that the only other person who's achieved such a feat is our Inquisitor Trevelyan. And it seems very unlikely that there just happens to be two separate Anchors."

"We need to… Maker's breath, I don't know where to even begin." Cullen groaned out loud this time, and so did she.

"If I might suggest we make camp somewhere nearby, early? A chance to talk, to think? Before anything must be done?" Zev supplied and Solona shared a look with Cullen before nodding. Yes, she could work with that.

"Would you look for a suitable spot for encampment? Take the men, set it up when you find it?" she asked, and Zev nodded with that twinkle in his eyes.

"It'll be but a moment, mi amor." he disappeared.

"How does he _do_ that?" Cullen muttered, just as a particularly colorful expletives screeched from the blood Mage and they both turned to look.

"…I assume we must go deal with it now," Solona sighed.

"Maker help us," he nodded. He took her hand to give it a quick squeeze, and they shared a small smile before they started towards the huddled figures at the center of dissipating demons.

It wasn't long before she could make out the distinct words of the Blood Mage.

"That's not doing anything!" Amell screamed at the Mage holding a glowing hand over the Dalish elf's chest. Quite frankly her poor Warden healer seemed ready to burst into tears any second.

"The damage is in her _spine_ , you imbecile. Bypass the nervous system for now and send your mana directly to her heart and lungs."

"But-"

"You! Do you actually know how to check for a concussion cause right now you're ju-"

"You're welcome to heal your Lavellan yourself, if you are so well versed in the healing arts." she moved to stand in front of her Warden, whose face blanched so pale that he looked faint.

The Maleficar's eyes flashed in anger, but Solona noted that it wasn't particularly directed at her.

"I can't, if you must know. My magic has never obeyed me in this. But _you_ ," her gaze turned piercing. "you heal her. You're a Spirit Healer. I can tell."

"Lavellan is in better hands with my Warden Mages. Leave your misgivings aside and let them work, if you truly wish for what is best for her. They are much better healers than I am."

"I know you are powerful. I can sense you; that fucking fireball earlier alone proves that. So why the hell won't you heal her? Didn't you see Lavellan closing that Rift? So just fucking heal her!" Amell near trembled with rage and frustrations, genuinely distraught. Perhaps, Solona mused, there was more to this Amell than rage.

"Wynne and Anders did attempt to teach me but while I excel at carnage, the school of creation and entropy does not come easily to me. I am apt, Amell. Well, maybe even excellent. For some, and for very specific situations I am invaluable. But for a wound like this, I'm the last Mage you want.

"Fucking darkspawn ass- _shit_ ," Amell spat.

"I'm _too_ powerful. Take healing from me, and most people risk additional damage due to an overextended healing. I heal only those I know, whose bodies I know better than my own. Zevran and the Commander is the only two I can heal here without causing damage. This Lavellan's body is unknown to me, too unfamiliar for me to adjust my magic. Unless her lifeblood is wetting the ground and her torn lungs are expelling her last dying breath and needs _massive_ healing, it is better for her to take conventional healing from my Warden Healers."

"But these idiots-"

"Are doing what they do best, Amell! Lavellan took a wound to her gut! Concussion is the least of her worries. Before they can attend to anything else, they must ascertain none of her stomach acid has leaked out. If not, Lavellan may die by her own acid eating her from inside out over a span of excruciatingly long hours. An examination which _you_ happen to be interfering with so they cannot proceed!"

"Warden Commander," Cullen murmured. Solona paused for a breath while Cullen went on one knee for Amell.

"I understand you fear for her, Maker's breath, I do. But you must let them work, for her sake as well as yours."

"As I've said, you two are now our guests provided you do not display hostility towards us again. Your Lavellan will be well cared for. Leave them to their work and you'll see her restored soon enough." Solona said, lowering her voice.

"Do you swear?"

"If it is my word you want, you have it. Lavellan is receiving the best help we have to offer. Now come, follow us. We shall encamp nearby for the eve while we sort this out. I have sent for Leliana and Dorian. It is fortunate we were so near Skyhold when we happened upon you two."

"Come, you must also be seen by a healer. Your wounds are severe." Cullen offered Amell a hand, which she slapped away.

"Fuck off, Rutherford." she snarled and Cullen simply shook his head and stood.

"Okay… then, lovely. That's that, I suppose. Amell, my Warden Vel will show you to equipment to replace what was damaged. You may take what you wish, rest, and we will call on you once Lavellan is well enough to speak and we've set up a camp." Solona plastered a smile on her face. It wasn't Jocelyn Trevelyan, but this Amell wasn't the easiest to converse with.

"If you think you can just order me around, whoever you think you are…"

"Me? Oh no, it's Vel you'll answer to. And trust me, Vel can order around anybody." Solona smiled genuinely.

"Warden Vel? Take it from here," she called past Amell's shoulder.

"You're leaving me with a bloody human? Again? Oh, let me guess. I can't kill this one either?"

"Vel is Velanna?" Amell paled a little when she heard the voice.

"Oh, you know her. Excellent, it'll make things simpler. I recommend you do as she says, but surely you were aware already."

"DO NOT LEAVE ME WITH-"

Amell screamed as Velanna hauled her off.

"You sent for Dorian as well?" Cullen asked, watching the trail of kicking and screaming blood Mage.

"Did he not mention he used to experiment with time? He is more an expert on this strangeness than I. Perhaps we can have all of this settled by moonrise, with some luck."

"Perhaps, but I won't hold my breath." he sighed.

 **"*~*"**

"You fell off a horse?" Leliana ran straight for Solona's arms the moment she burst through the tent, locking her in a suffocating embrace.

"I slipped, more like. I'm fine, Leli. I don't know if sliding off a horse gives cause for concern." Solona coughed out.

"My agents reported Blood Magic!" Leliana cried.

"It wasn't that b – wait, your spies? You had spies in my procession? Leli!"

"It was an excellent idea, no?" Zevran chuckled.

"He suggested it?" Cullen groaned.

"Leli, Leli, I can't breathe." Solona begged.

"Oh, you can breathe just fine!" Leliana hugged her even tighter before releasing her grip. She then whirled to face the Maleficar with two Templars standing guard on either side. The elf, now healed to full health, was next to the Maleficar with her own set of Templar entourage.

"Let's hear it then, no? An explanation, if you please." she spoke coolly.

"I have no time to explain this," the blood Mage spat, and though Solona noted the woman's stiff movements failing to conceal her injuries, she simply shook her head. Her Wardens have already attempted to heal her, only to receive vicious insults in return.

"You will explain it now!" Leliana glowered, a rare instance to see her riled up so. She closed the distance on the Maleficar, forcing Amell to lean away with an odd look on her face. A wonder of sort, perhaps.

"You felled the Hero of Ferelden from her saddle by ambushing her with unsanctioned, unprovoked, hostile Blood Magic! If she had not argued for your sake, you would have been executed already. Pray you have a tale for your actions, for not even her protests will stop my arrows from finding your heart for your crimes."

A myriad of emotions flashed in the stern woman's face. A painful rawness was there, evident in her eyes as she looked to Leliana. Solona knew then, beyond any shadow of doubt, this one called Amell was oft in habit of intimacy with her friend Leliana and searched for it so. A sort of yearning she recognized only too well in herself was mirrored in this one who shared her name. But she directed it towards her friend unlike Solona, and in return received only a quizzical confusion on Leliana's part.

It was a desperate want of affection that Leliana could in no way misinterpret nor understand. She looked to Solona, who only shook her head.

"If you've no inkling, Leli, I've no recollections of such a lover of yours." Solona replied.

"It is because I have had no such lover, as you know well enough." Leliana looked at Amell again, daring her to contradict her words.

It was as if Leliana's words broke something in the blood Mage's being. Perhaps it was hope, or something akin to that.

"Okay," she said, her voice as soft as rain.

The blood Mage reached into her robe and pulled out a large shard of a mirror.

"No!" Solona cried, casting the Litany of Adralla just as Amell squeezed the razor sharp edge of the shard and drenched it in her blood. The mirror rose from her palm and floated in the middle of the tent.

"You will cease any casting of Blood Magic without permission!" Leliana cracked a blow against her face, snapping Amell's head one way.

"Templars, drain this woman and suppress her magic entirely. We've no obligation to an overeager Blood Mage." Solona snapped as well, her eyes cool.

"No, please! Amell is just-" Lavellan cried, only to be cut short by Solona's glare.

"We've granted all due respect, Mage Lavellan. But it would do well for your Maleficar to remember hospitality in such trying times is a fickle thing indeed. See to it you do not overstep your welcome, and your magic shall remain your own."

"You wanted an explanation, didn't you?" Amell spat blood out of her mouth and straightened her robes.

"Explanation is oft _not_ accompanied by Blood Magic, Maleficar. Bleed if you will to power the spell you've cast, but with your magic siphoned by Templars you can't cast another one." Solona nodded as she felt the blood Mage's mana being suppressed.

"Fuck you," Amell shrugged. With her uninjured hand she smoothed back her roughened hair just as the blood faded from the mirror. Amell put a hand on her hip and… _shifted_. Not in body or in from but in persona. There was suddenly a sly, almost purring ambience about her.

"Well, well, what have we here?" a voice floated from the mirror, and a smile of wicked delight graced the bleeding Mage's lips.

"Hello, darling," Amell caressed the word.

"'tis most surprising to glimpse you in my mirror," the witch's voice betrayed nothing. "and not only you, but our companions of old as well! Well now, it has been a long time, Leliana, Zevran. Might you fare well? Or has my dear friend and old acquaintances come calling to… warn me of retribution? If so, won't you agree 'tis a foolish endeavor? Surely it comes far too delayed for any real satisfaction against whatever perceived slights I may have committed years past,"

"Morrigan," Solona whispered.

"Oh, perish the thought!" It was surprising to discover that Amell's tone could be so non-threatening. Her lilting voice was one of warmth and easy grace. "It is sacrilege to dare even think of harming a lethally exquisite beauty such as yourself."

"Charmed," she said, with a slight twitch Solona readily recognized as a smile. The witch's eyes swept the room. "Who are the others?"

"Members of the Inquisition," Amell flicked her hand.

Morrigan's eyes landed on Cullen.

"Might that be the foolish Templar that once held a flame for you?" A hint of resentment smoldered in her yellow eyes. "Perhaps your head injuries have returned? He yet draws breath despite his words back in the Circle?"

"I'm under strict orders not to kill him." Amell shrugged nonchalantly even as her own red speckled eyes twinkled in cruel amusement. "But he is not exactly that man."

"Oh?"

"The introductions are yet to be finished, Maleficar." Solona cut her off, drawing their attention.

"You're someone of importance, then?" Morrigan scowled, obviously thinking less of her.

"To some, perhaps. But to you, no. No, to you I am someone of interest. Though you share a name and a face with a friend I would know as a sister, you're not her."

"Well now, that is a proper mystery even now with all these happenings." Morrigan smiled.

"Well met, Morrigan summoned by Amell. I am Solona Amell, with many a titles my old friend would find tiresome. But she would know me by my feat, and perhaps so will you. I am the Warden who survived slaying the Archdemon Urthemiel by aid of one called Morrigan, the Witch of the Wilds. You may call me Solona, if you will."

"…it seems there's much to hear." Morrigan settled, her eyes fixated on Solona with renewed scholarly interest.

"And much to discuss." Solona nodded.

"Oh, then by all means. Do tell," smiled the witch.


End file.
